Just Not Yet
by Gevaudan
Summary: Nikki and Harry's thoughts about the events in Hungary, amongst the case of The Prodigal. The start of some H/N.
1. Chapter 1

Just Not Yet

This is set during the opening scenes of The Prodigal. All characters belong to the BBC.

A/N: This is my first fic in probably 6 years but it has been going round and round in my head so as I had a spare hour I committed it to type. Please be kind, my writing is rusty.

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She pulls the car smoothly into a parking space on the empty rooftop level. Pulling on the handbrake she looks over to her passenger, curled against the window, his expression troubled, even as he sleeps.

Hating herself for having to wake him she leans over and softly calls his name,

"Harry?"

He doesn't even stir at the sound of her voice, and for a fleeting moment she considers leaving him undisturbed to get the rest he obviously desperately needs. But she knows that Leo knows how tired Harry is. She has seen him silently watch Harry in the office, pressing his lips together in silent concern when he thinks no one can see. So whatever is wrong, whatever emergency has forced Leo to call them in, it must be important. So she leans over and repeats his name, touching his arm gently.

"Harry?"

He jerks awake with a gasp, looking around bewildered and a wave of guilt washes over her.

"That was quick." She sees through the facade, knowing that the response is meant to reassure her, to make everything seem normal. But he must know, as she does, that Harry never sleeps on the days that is her turn to drive, because, as he usually teases her, her driving is too scary to let him relax.

A part of her wants to sit him down until he tells her what is haunting him but equally she is aware that sometimes, with Harry, it is best to wait for him to open up as he inevitably, eventually will. So instead she asks blandly,

"You still not sleeping well?"

He rubs his eyes and exhales.

"Not at night."

He attempts to smile as he says it, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes and instead he just looks exhausted and pale. She returns the half-hearted smile with one of her own as he continues.

"But I'm ok."

She almost can't believe he thinks she'll be convinced. His normally animated voice is flat and toneless, and even though its normally his job to do this for her, in that moment all she wants to do is take him in her arms and tell him it will be ok. Actually, that's not all she wants to do. Really she wants to kiss him gently, tell him how she really feels, how she has felt for the last five years and hope that her love for him will chase away the ghosts.

But he doesn't know that she feels that way. Can't know, not yet anyway.

She knows that secretly that's what Leo is hoping for, that she will come clean and he will finally be able to stop watching this complicated dance of "will they, won't they" that is being played out between the two of them. When they returned to England and started to put the horror of Hungary behind them all, she thought about it. Started to plan even how she would go about it all. She couldn't say the words aloud to him, she blushed even thinking about it, but she could invite him over for dinner and a movie as usual perhaps, something soppy that Harry would pretend to hate, while actually watching avidly. She would lean over and press her lips to his and hope that in her kiss he would read all those things that she didn't know how to begin to say aloud.

But Harry is so fragile right now, and she doesn't want to pour out her feelings to him when he can barely cope with his own. Even though she wants him to come to her flat every night so she can keep an eye on him, keep him company when his nightmares wake him, she knows she must wait for him to be ready. He must work this out for himself, grieve for Ana and his lost child and perhaps then he will be ready to listen to what she has to say.

For now though, she is Harry's best friend, nothing more and nothing less.

"Are you?" she asks, although she knows he won't answer truthfully.

"Yeah" he nods, pointedly, begging her with his eyes not to ask him anything more. She is aware now of how close he is, how easy it would be to reach out and caress his stubbled cheek. She is surprised how easily those thoughts come to her now, and how difficult it is to keep her hand still in her lap. Nevertheless she must, for it isn't the right time, not yet.

Harry is still talking, hastily, trying to put distance between him and her concern. She is aware it's nothing personal, that they have a meeting shortly and it isn't the time or the place for the heart to heart that she suspects Harry will need soon.

"What's the time? Twelve thirty, we're not late. Come on."

"Shall we have some lunch after the meeting?" she asks, the words out before she can stop them. Not that she wants to really. She feels like she should be cramming in enough time with Harry now. She only realised when she thought he was gone that all those shared moments, teasing, chatting, cups of coffee, didn't add to up enough. So now, even if she couldn't tell him everything, she was banking all those little encounters, storing them up so that, God forbid, if anything ever happened again she would somehow have more of him to hold on to in her mind.

She aches to tell him the truth. So that they can start making the memories that she wants to hold onto, but just for now, it isn't time.

"Yeah" he replies, and this time she can see the real Harry, her Harry, in his smile, and she is pleased she asked. He turns away to get out of the car, then looks back at her.

"Don't forget the champagne."

For a second she is confused, why do they need champagne for lunch? What are they celebrating? She worries that she has lost all sense of control, has she been speaking aloud all the thoughts in her head – does Harry agree? Are they celebrating the start of something they both want? Then, almost sadly, she remembers Leo. Leo and his MBE, and the champagne that they have bought together to celebrate the honour.

"Oh yeah" she sounds downcast and she hopes that Harry won't hear that in her voice. She looks up, and there he is, with that little smile waiting for her to lock the car.

She wishes she could run to him, wrap her arm round his waist, and laugh with him.

'_Stop it!'_ She commands her wayard imagination. She would tell him, and tell him soon, because as Leo had made so clear in that dismal hotel room, there was never enough time.

So, even though she may be handing him the tools to break her heart, she would tell him.

Soon.

Just not yet.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you for the lovely reviews for part one. Part two focuses on Harry and is set during part 2 of The Prodigal. _

_I thought this part would be easier but actually I've really struggled with it and I'm not entirely sure I'm happy with it. Part 3 should be easier though, hopefully I'll get it finished tomorrow! Then I'm kicking around some ideas for some more stuff, perhaps something a bit longer so watch this space._

_As always, all characters belong to the BBC. And as always, thank you for reading._

"Hello, hero of the hour!"

He smiles at Nikki's warm greeting and the mirth that makes her chocolate eyes dance. He is happy of course, that he has found Jack but a part of him resents that death has once again edged in and tarnished the shine on his joy. Still Nikki is happy, and her happiness has the power to light up a room.

He would miss that, were he ever to leave this place. But then, he never really considered it. Yes, the idea of getting away from everything that reminded him of Hungary was appealing, but as soon as that took Nikki and Leo out of his life then it ceased to become an option. In fact the only thing that would have him leave this place would be if her voice no longer greeted him as he meandered through the door.

"You should be getting the MBE, not me!"

"Yep" he replies drolly, smiling slightly as he hears Leo chuckle at his feigned arrogance. Although she was first and foremost in his reasons for staying he also knows that were it just he and Leo, he would still find it tricky. Once all he had wanted from his work was advancement, and his affable boss would have stood in the way of that. Now he has grown older, maybe even grown up, he has realised that he is happy where he is, he loves his work, loves his colleagues, albeit in different ways, and quite frankly has a distaste for paperwork that runs so deep that he would consider turning down a promotion just to avoid writing yet more reports.

"How were the VanBuren's?" Nikki's question halts his progress across the room and he turns to meet her chestnut eyes.

"Mixed" he replies indicating the small skeleton his colleagues are attempting to reassemble. Nikki smiles sympathetically at him, and he turns away. He's not ready to admit how hard he found it, being the harbinger of bad news, especially to parents who have hoped for so long that their child is somewhere else. He won't admit, to her or anyone else, that he spent quarter of an hour earlier in the locker room, thinking about Ana's child, _his_ child, and wondering what, who, they would have looked like. Wondering how his life would have been with a child in it, even if only intermittently.

It seems callous and cruel to admit his feelings, so he has told no-one of them. It seems disrespectful to Ana to admit to anyone, even himself, that he wouldn't have stayed with her. He had liked her of course, perhaps even loved her in some sort of way, but as they had lain on her rooftop terrace and she had asked him what he wanted, all he had been able to think about was the beautiful blonde woman in front of him now, instead of the brunette in his arms then.

He turns away, although he knows that he loves her, has loved her for six years, at that moment he finds he can't look at her. She resurrects all his guilt about everything that happened in Hungary.

"You not thinking about leaving are you?"

Leo's question spins him back round, surprised, and he again meets Nikki's widened eyes. He is confused momentarily about the question. How had Leo even heard about the offer he has received?

"Why do you ask?" he questions cautiously.

Leo returns to his work as he replies and Harry hates that this is clearly upsetting both of them.

"It's just that I've had a request for a reference?"

"For me?"

'_surely James can't have been that forward'_ he thinks to himself. Or that stupid. His rejection of the offer had been clear.

"You haven't been approached by anyone?"

"James Saverson mentioned he might be setting up a new practice" he answers. He doesn't want to tell them about the money involved, he knows that Leo will already know, and he doesn't want them to think that is a consideration.

Nikki jumps in anyway, before he can say anything further.

"What and he offered you a job?"

"I said no."

This doesn't seem to reassure either of them, they are looking at him as though he might go and pack his bags at any moment. For a moment, his confidence in his decision wavers. Maybe they want him to leave? Maybe Nikki is fed up of his presence and Leo is fed up of his pining for her?

"Well somebody thinks you are."

"We talked about it. He said he might put something in writing."

"And that was what the envelope was for?" now he is really confused. What is Nikki talking about?

"What envelope?"

At that moment his phone rings, frustrated, he apologises and leaves the room to answer it.

He returns to the cutting room and finds Nikki stood alone, still working on the small sad skeleton. He has always loved watching her work, her intense focus, that tilt of her head when she is puzzling something out.

The door swings behind him, and she looks up at the noise, her expression is sombre, and she returns her attention immediately to the bones in her hand.

He feels bad for distracting her, but he finds that now, more than ever he wants to hear her opinions. For however else he may feel about her, she is his best friend, and right now that is who he needs.

"What would you do if someone offered you a job like this?"

She doesn't look at him, continues working, but a small, strange smile crosses her face.

"I'm not you," she reminds him. Harry is momentarily disappointed, a part of him wants her to say that she would decline it to stay with the person she loves. But she doesn't feel that way. She only sees her friend Harry, with his silly jokes and appalling taste in music.

Harry knows that really, he should be honest, tell her how he feels, so that he can move on from this purgatory. He is too selfish to do that right now though. Her friendship is that only thing holding him together at the moment and he cannot bear to do anything to jeopardise that. Not right now.

"Leo thinks that if you leave this department will close."

He is surprised by her words and scoffs in response "Rubbish."

They are overrun with students, always have been. One of them could fill his position in a moment. Yes they would need some time to get some experience, but with Leo and Nikki to teach them that would take no time.

"Leo thinks you're irreplaceable." She continues softly.

Harry is struck by a desperate need to know what she thinks of him. If she too, considers him that way. Almost desperately he meets her eyes, looking for a clue in their dark depths. He doesn't know what to say, all that comes to mind is for him to blurt out his feelings to her, let her in on the secret he's been carrying for the last five years. But he can't bear anymore hurt yet, not without her to help him through it. He doesn't want to hear the truth that will shut the door on five years of hope.

He knows that really, he has to tell her sometime. He can't hide forever, and he has wanted to tell her so many times now. He wanted to wrap his arms around her sobbing frame in Hungary and tell her that he'd never leave her again. As he'd brushed her wayward hair out of her face, all he wanted to do was kiss her. But it wasn't the right time.

And she mustn't feel like she is second best, like now that Ana is gone she is the next available option. Because to Harry that has never been the case. She has always been his unattainable dream, and to him, no other woman could ever hold a candle to her beauty. Both inside and out.

One day, he will tell her that he coming back to England for her. Before all the shouting, and the shooting she was his priority. All the time he was running, he imagined he was running to her, because that was the only thing that gave him the strength to keep going. That the hardest thing he's ever had to do was to fight the urge to kiss her and walk away from her at the memorial. And in those horrible, final moments, when they led him out onto the railway and he was sure that they were his final moments, his biggest regret was that he had never told her the truth.

When she appeared there, leaning around Leo's shoulder, he'd thought for a moment he really was dead and she was an angel, she'd always been his angel, sent to take him somewhere. Not heaven. He didn't deserve that, but then, being with Nikki would be heaven enough for him.

One day he'd tell her all that.

He sighs, breaking the spell of the moment, returning them both to the matter at hand.

One day, when he's more certain he can survive her rejection, he'll tell her.

Even if she rejects him, he will finally have been honest to her. Honest to himself.

One day.

Just not yet.


	3. Chapter 3

_Well here we are. The final part. This one jumps between the two of them and is a bit fluffier than the other two parts. I've never really written any romantic fics before so I hope this isn't too bad. _

_I've had a couple of ideas for some other fics – both one shot and multichapter so please let me know if you have enjoyed this! Reviews are the greatest motivation!_

_All characters belong to the BBC._

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She smiles gently as she catches a glimpse of him through the glass windows of the office. It's late afternoon and Harry is supposed to be finishing his report on the Van Buren case so they can all have the day off tomorrow to celebrate Leo receiving his MBE. While it's true he's sat at his desk, his head is face down on a pile of paper, eyes closed, while a coffee cup dangles precariously from one hand.

Concerned she crosses to his side, but is stopped in her tracks by Harry's expression. For the first time in what seems like months, a tiny smile is gracing his face.

Gently, trying not to disturb him, to allow him his obviously pleasant dream, she loosens his grip on the mug and sets it down carefully on the desk.

As she turns to leave him for a little while longer she is aware she is being watched by sleepy brown eyes.

"Hello, sleepy," she says softly, laughing softly at his puzzled expression.

###

A part of him is aware he's dreaming, but as he's walking hand in hand with a beautiful woman somewhere sunny, he doesn't care. He's aware of her small cool hand in his, and he can't help but smile at the joy he feels in her company.

All too soon, her hand is taken from his, and Harry jerks awake. He longs to close his eyes and return to his dream, but a gentle laugh draws his gaze and he is unsure for a moment whether he is awake or asleep, because there in front of him is the girl from his dreams, laughing at him.

"Hello sleepy,"

He attempts to awaken fully, to form a coherent, and appropriate sentence, and after a few moments of struggling, settles instead for a simple,

"Hello."

She perches on the edge of his desk, looking down at him cheerily.

"We never went for lunch!" she exclaims suddenly, "I promised you lunch, and we never went!"

Harry thinks about this for a moment, looking at the clock to try and work out how long he's been asleep if it is suddenly lunch time.

"It's seven o clock, Nikki." He points out, "isn't that a little late for lunch?"

He watches her consider this for a moment, wishing that he had just agreed so that he could spend some more time with her.

"Is your report done?" she asks him. He gestures to the printer, and leans back in his seat.

"Yes, it was the soothing lullaby of the printing which sent me to sleep." He jokes. She smiles cheerily and he can't help but think that the room is a little brighter as she does. Then he has to laugh at himself, and his teenage infatuation with Nikki. If anyone ever heard his thoughts on his female colleague he would, of course, be mortified, but in the privacy of his own head he secretly enjoys it. It's a long time since Harry has felt this way about anyone, and he resolves to enjoy it, even if he can't yet share his feelings with her.

##

"Why not come to mine for dinner?"

She's not sure why she's nervous about asking Harry over. It's practically a weekly ritual for them, but since Hungary and her revelation to Leo she has felt like she is living on borrowed time before she has to confess all to him.

"That would be great," he replies. "Chinese or Indian?"

This is their weekly argument, he prefers Chinese, she Indian and they always compromise on Thai. Yet every week he asks her, and every week she pretends to consider. She's never told him that she's come to prefer Thai to Indian anyway, not because of taste but because she associates it with comforting memories of evening of laughter on the sofa. Instead she pretends to think over her choices.

"Shall we have Thai?"

###

Harry pretends to think about the offered compromise, though he already knows he'll accept. He'd never tell her but for a long time he's preferred Thai to Chinese, just because of the associations he has with eating it. He only ever has Thai with Nikki, he's tried once before to take one of his dates to the local restaurant and has never done it since, there was something sacrilegious about the action, and he vaguely remembers calling his date Nikki by mistake.

"Thai is fine," he agrees, standing up to retrieve his coat from behind the door, "Ready?"

He watches her retrieve her jacket and follows her out to the car park. She shivers as they step out onto the breezy rooftop and he longs to take her hands in his to keep them warm.

As he settles in the passenger seat, he thinks again about his feelings for Nikki. He knows now, that this is it. There will be no more casual dates or flings, either in London or elsewhere. They are more trouble than they are worth, even discounting the events of Hungary, and he has come to realise he derives no pleasure from casual sex anymore.

Maybe he will have to tell Leo that he has finally grown up.

Nikki is humming tunelessly along to the radio and Harry realises he will have to escape his thoughts so raises his voice to join hers in a tuneless rendition of Snow Patrol.

###

She is curled on her sofa with a glass of wine, waiting patiently for the food to arrive. She is flushed from laughing at Harry's terrible car singing, and now Love Actually is playing on the TV and Harry is making her giggle by singing along to the soundtrack wherever possible. She's secretly hoping he will join in with dancing along with Hugh Grant later in the movie.

They've both seen it hundreds of times so Nikki doesn't feel guilty for interrupting the film as Harry rants for the hundredth time about the benefits of the silent setting on a mobile phone in the workplace.

She hits the mute button and turns to Harry,

"You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to," she starts hesitantly, "but I just wanted to ask if you were ok?"

###

He sighs deeply and sets his wine glass on the table in front of him. He isn't sure what to say to her, but the guilt he feels about Hungary has been increasing in proportion to his thoughts about the woman in front of him. He wants to get it off his chest, and he knows she is the only one he will ever be able to share it with, but he doesn't want her to think badly of him.

Still, he thinks that he has been lying for too long. It hurt Anna, it has been hurting him, and if he carries on he will hurt Nikki and that is the one thing that he cannot bear.

Sighing again, he begins, finally, to tell the truth.

"I feel guilty Niks," he begins hesitantly, staring down at his knees. He is dimly aware that her hand has finally found its way into his and he squeezes it softly.

"I know that I didn't kill Anna, and that it probably would have happened, even if I wasn't there. But I still feel so guilty."

He pauses, and Nikki remains silent, giving him space to find the words he has been wanting to say.

"I didn't love Anna." He finally blurts out. "She was wonderful, strong and beautiful, but I was never in love with her. I thought if I spent more time with her I might feel different but all it did was make me realise I had made a terrible mistake."

His voice catches, and Nikki regrets causing him the pain that is etched over his face. She derives no pleasure from hearing the truth of his feelings for Anna, not with Harry looking so distraught in front of her.

"The day she...died, Anna asked me what I wanted. I didn't know about the baby then, as far as I knew we had been ... taking precautions. But she asked me what I wanted, and I couldn't tell her."

He looks up at Nikki, his face anguished.

###

"Why couldn't you tell her?" she asks him gently. Somehow she is aware that the answer to this question is at the heart of what is upsetting him. She doesn't want to push him too hard though, and she wonders if she has already crossed the line as Harry stands up abruptly and stares out of the window.

Harry realises the way this conversation is going to end now. He moves over to the window, unable to look at her face as he tells her the truth. He's still not sure now is the right time, not sure he can take her rejection, but he can't handle the deception anymore either.

"I haven't been able to tell anyone that," he whispers, "I haven't even been able to tell you."

She stands behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder and turning him to face her.

"Tell me what?" She asks, surprised by the catch in her voice. Harry is still looking at the floor and she has to strain to hear his reply.

He takes a deep breath.

"I love you Nikki."

###

For a moment there is silence. Then Harry realises the enormity of what he has said and immediately begins to apologise.

"Nikki I'm, I shouldn't have...I'm so sorry Niks, forget I said anything, just forg..."

Nikki presses a hand to his mouth silencing him. She is relieved that the time has come or honesty and elated that Harry feels the same way. Slowly, deliberately, she leans forward and presses her lips to his.

For a moment she breaks away and whispers to him,

"I love you too," she is going to say more, but Harry's arms tighten around her and he lifts her to his eye level, pressing his lips to hers again, deepening the kiss as tears roll down her face.

Harry is dimly aware that they need to talk about this. Need to discuss how they will proceed, how they will manage at work and how they will break the news to Leo.

But for now, she is kissing him, she loves him and he has never, _never_ been happier than he is now.

So yes, there is lots to be worked out.

Just not now.


End file.
